


Movie Night

by LanceTheFuckerTucker



Series: Movie Night [1]
Category: Sebastian Stan - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 05:25:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9420563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanceTheFuckerTucker/pseuds/LanceTheFuckerTucker
Summary: You and Sebastian have a Halloween movie night together, but he hates horror films.





	

Whenever Sebastian was at home, Thursday night was movie night. Each week, you’d choose a genre and go at it until the wee, small hours. But there was one particular genre, that you loved, that Sebastian always skirted over. Horror.

Every week, you’d suggest it, and every week he’d insist on something different, but it was Halloween, which left him no choice.

“You know, there are plenty of Halloween films out there that don’t involve blood, guts and murderous rampages - Hocus Pocus, Nightmare Before Christmas, The Addams Family…” he jabbered, trailing behind you at the supermarket.

You grabbed a packet of nachos and tossed them in the basket he was holding, quirking an eyebrow, “is someone a little spooked?” you mocked giving his chin a slight scratch.

“No!” Sebastian huffed, “I’m just saying! It’s a little excessive.”

“We’re doing this once and for all! Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hand so that no scary monsters can get you. Besides, horror films get me kinda riled up, I dunno about you,” you cooed, throwing an arm around him. He responded by dramatically pretending to pout.

By midnight you were both in bed, nestled cosily under a sea of blankets. Empty bags of pretzels and nachos were strewn across the bed, and the sheets had an annoying layer of crumbs on them, but you were far too lazy to move. You had been there for over seven hours and you were on your third movie. You decided to ease Sebastian into it, starting with The Shining, which wasn’t particularly terrifying. Then you moved on to Halloween which just about got under his skin as he shifted closer to you.

But now, his head was resting against your side, with an arm clamped around your middle, covering his face. He peered out over it to take in the next film; you were watching 28 Days Later, much to Sebastian’s protests. Apparently he hated zombies (running ones, especially), but you wanted to test this theory, assuring him that this was the last one and you would watch Hocus Pocus with him once this was over (knowing full well he was madly in love with a young and witchy Sarah Jessica Parker - so were you).

As soon as the film’s plot got underway and the protagonist woke up in a deserted London hospital, you decided to tease him: “can you imagine that happening? Man, those zombies could be anywhere,” you jested, poking between his shoulder blades.

“Shut up and eat your nachos,” he mumbled.

“I’m just saying!” you laughed.

Sebastian’s grip on your waist tightened as the film advanced, and when it reached its end, he lifted his head, face flushed and eyes wide. You ran a hand through his hair; “has someone had enough?”

“Mmmhm,” he groaned against your stomach.

“Ok, let’s put Hocus Pocus on to cheer you up,” you said, straining for the remote.

Sebastian barely made it twenty minutes in before he was fast asleep. Not wanting to wake him up, you settled down for the night too.

Your eyes sprang open at 5am to the feeling of Sebastian’s weight shifting behind you as you lay with your back to him, on your side.

“No… No… don’t bite me,” he cried.

You turned your head to find him flat on his back, still asleep, flailing his arms around him. You turned around to him and smoothed a few strands of his hair off his face. “Seb,” you whispered, trying to wake him up. He simply flailed an arm again. This time, in the direction of your face, making you squeal.

He was startled awake, “what the fuck?! Are you ok? Did… did I hit you? I’m so sorry,” he whined, sitting up.

“What’s up with you? You were talking in your sleep,” you laughed, “the zombies give ya nightmares, did they?”

He shot you a horrified look: “no!”

“Sure,” you remarked, lying back down.

It took him a grand total of ten minutes to fall back asleep, clinging to you. Twenty before you could hear him try to outrun a herd of zombies in his nightmares. You almost, almost, felt guilty.


End file.
